


Hua

by deight



Category: Original Work
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:08:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28359840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deight/pseuds/deight





	Hua

In his earlier days, he had always been interested in writing stories. Pulling inspiration from all sorts, old legends, folklore, market gossip, it makes no difference to him. When he puts his own personal twist to it, added with some dramatic flair, his stories instantly became widely popular, known by all towns and cities. Children admired his innocent stories of the princes and princesses, nobles blushed over the hot lusty stories of lovers, and scholars admired his work of literature of the heavens. His work had gained him extreme fame and reverence for his technique and plots, but his identity remained as shrewd as an empty turtle shell. Aside from his publisher, who is responsible for printing his books and selling it across all bookshops, and his plain pen name "Snow Moon", no one knew anything about him. 

However, this legendary author had a massive issue... it was that he did not name any of his characters! If it was about a pair of star crossed lovers, aside from their pronouns, the author would always refer to them as the "peach blossomed female" and the "gentle scholarly husband" throughout the story. Throughout his earliest published books, his readers grew increasingly dissatisfied. This way of addressing wasn't it like addressing a king or a god by whatever their official title is? Actually some of his 'names' are ridiculously longer than a king's or God's. Thus, their distaste grew and grew, until they had rioted by the doors of the author's main publishing house, demanding for an explanation from his publisher. After much pressure and threats, the meek publisher could only return to the angry crowd with one reply from the author himself.

"Don't like it? Simple, don't read it."

...

With this cold reply, the crowd had collectively coughed blood, frustration seeping into their very cores. They swore to never support him, burn all his books and slander his name. His fame and status had plummeted greatly for a few months, yet as Snow Moon released his new book, the same people that were in the angry crowd secretly bought the books on the day it was stocked on the bookshelves. It couldn't be helped, his stories were truly amazingly incredible. If he wanted to make you feel happy, your heart would soar high into cloud nine; pain, he could stab your heart a million times over; sadness, oh even the biggest, toughest man would shed tears at his genius writing. Anyone could confidently say that no writer could match his ability to move someone. 

His new book was incredibly short, written in the style of a children's book. The main character was a chubby cheeked piglet who knew nothing but to eat and eat and eat. Its owner was very kind and would feed him all sorts of things, from oatmeal to wheat to soybean, all of which the chubby cheeked piglet loved very much. One day, in the middle of fall, a sweet scent trailed over to it will it was napping, which caused it to slowly stir awake. Curious, it waddled with its big pink belly and preened from his pen to the other pig pen, belonging to another farmer. The three small piglets oinked and crowded over their owner as he fed them glistening turgid purple grapes from his silk white gloves. At the sight of those piglets munching on those grapes, releasing an irresistible 'crunch' sound, paired with the delectable smell, the chubby cheeked piglet salivated without control. 

After that incident, the chubby cheeked piglet could not get its mind off the deliciously sweet smell of grapes and soon lost taste for its current staple food of oatmeal and such. Soon after, similar instances occurred. Every few days, the three piglets's owner would come in with a studded dagger. Carefully peeling the skin and cutting it into small pieces, he hand-fed them goodies such as pumpkins, oranges and peaches. As the year went on, the jealousy which the chubby cheeked piglet harbored soon twisted into resentment towards its own master. 

Every time its owner came in with the same rusting bucket of brownish sludge, the chubby cheeked piglet could not stop huffing at him, butting its head against him, it oinked angrily at him "Young master, why am I being treated so badly compared to the three piglets in the other pen? Do you not get it after all my oinking? This food is disgusting! Absolutely disgusting!"

As if sensing its unhappiness, its owner petted it with his dirty torn gloves, giving a forlorn, almost apologetic smile. Of course the chubby cheeked piglet did not sense the subtle change of its owner's expression, only concerned with when it will be fed better food. Suddenly, it had thought of a brilliant idea. Keeping its eyes pensive, the chubby cheeked piglet laid dejectedly at a corner of the pen whenever its owner came to feed it the same dark sludge. It was trying to guilt trip its master. Yet day by day, its plan failed. Its owner was extremely alarmed, and tried to persuade its chubby cheeked piglet to come and eat. However, as its owner was illiterate, it never named it, and furthermore could not persuade it to eat. He could only repeat the word 'eat' and 'please', words which he had learned while in the markets, over and over again. 

"Eat... eat.. please eat....... eat.........."

The chubby cheeked piglet was immensely resolute, turning a blind eye and deaf ear to the cries of its owner, it stubbornly promised in its heart that it will never rise until its owner brought something better. Its eyes only stayed focus on the piglets in the other pen and the snow white silk gloves and as days turned into weeks, the worst happened.

The ever stubborn chubby cheeked piglet was no long chubby cheeked. Its once plump cheeks were now sunken and it even lost its prosperous big pink belly. It was clear to see that the piglet was now thin and malnourished, but even if it wanted to desperately eat, even if it was the same old oatmeal sludge, it couldn't even get up! 

Seeing as to how miserable his poor little piglet was, its owner treated it with more care. After all, it was winter and if the piglet caught a cold, it would very likely lead to death. So the owner tended to it day and night. He gave his own blankets and covers to his poor little piglet, wrapping him up like a dumpling and even spoon-fed him the oatmeal sludge, warmed over whatever small fire he managed to lit up. As he brought a tin spoon over to its mouth, the piglet realized that its master's bare hands was covered with cuts and scars, running from the tips of his fingers, all the way up to his arms. His arms were shaking uncontrollably under the cold, spilling the oatmeal here and there.

It was then when the poor little piglet looked up at its young master, as if saying, "Oh aren't you just pathetic?"

The next morning, the piglet, ever stubborn, ever naive, passed away.

If any fan of Snow Moon were to read the new book titled Stubborn Pig (Part 1), their eyebrows would furrow confusedly, as though the story was hinting at something but they couldn't quite put their finger on what, then their eyebrows will raise and twitch in unbearable anger with their fingernails digging into the book, leaving crescent marks. 

SNOW MOON WHO THE F*CK ARE YOU TO CALL US PIGS?!

Although Snow Moon had never directly said it, any reader with a shred of common sense could tell that it was obvious what he was trying to imply with this story. The chubby cheeked pig were his readers, portrayed as ungrateful and uncaring for its own master, Snow Moon himself. To them was a plain statement by the legendary author himself: the more you desire grapes (to name my characters), the more I won't do it! Just die. 

They seethed and raged, Snow Moon could actually be so shameless to write a story, straight up attacking all of his readers and supporters, even making the f*cking pig to die. All we complained was that your 'names' are truly a mouthful to keep saying. How many times did we have to read "chubby cheeked piglet" in your stupid story? Are we reading a f*cking riddle? You ungrateful, uncaring bastard. Snow Moon?? HMPH, more like Black Moon!


End file.
